


Devotional

by trascendenza



Category: The New Legends of Monkey (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, First Time, Hair-pulling, Light Dom/sub, Nonbinary Character, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 09:57:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15603825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trascendenza/pseuds/trascendenza
Summary: Monkey’s eyes widen and his tongue peeks out from behind his top teeth, scraping along the underside slowly. “Anything. Just say the word; I’m ready.”





	Devotional

It isn’t that Monkey is intense. That’s just him — all muscular movement and kinetic sensuality without even trying. She was prepared for that, as much as one can prepare for such a thing. (In those moments late at night, when it was dark and the three gods were sleeping, she would squirm. She could feel him, mere feet away, and the urge to slip closer, to line her body up next to his, was excruciating. She’d picture the way he would devour her lips and clench inside, not entirely sure what was happening in her body but savoring every second.)

No, it’s the way he’s _looking_ at her that’s undoing her, unraveling her at the seams.

His gaze is pure, unbridled adoration and she’s just... she’s not built for this. She’s the girl who served the Scholar and colleagues tea, the baby who was quiet and never cried; she’s always existed on the periphery, fading into the background without even trying. Despite everything that’s happened since then, deep down she knows that she only came out into the light because she had no other choice, and it’s jarring to be seen as anything else.

“Tripitaka,” he murmurs, his voice a sweet rumble, planting hungry kisses down the line of her jaw. “Here, sit, let me —”

And before she knows what’s happening, she’s sitting down on the bed and he’s dropped to his knees in front of her, his body held between her legs. She inhales sharply, her hands coming up to his shoulders reflexively, his bare skin practically pulsing with radiant heat under her palms.

It’s stirring something in her, how completely comfortable he is, kneeling in worship before her as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. As if it’s unquestionably her right. He’s wearing nothing more than a underwrap that does very little to conceal how much he wants her, but he’s making no effort to remove what remains of her robes, as if that, too, is her right alone.

Instead, he angles himself to kiss down the exposed parts of her legs, nipping softly along her inner thigh, her shins, his hands trailing just behind, his blunt fingertips digging into her skin. His body is a luscious arch by the time he reaches her ankles, the top of her foot, and sweet sky above, but it’s beautiful.

Her blood is singing under the surface of her skin, and the jangling nerves are transmuting into a powerful _need_ — to do more than simply allow this to happen, but to let her own desire bloom. A sense of potency is growing within her, like electricity gathering before a lightning strike.

“Monkey,” she says, experimentally. His head snaps instantly, looking up at her. His large, liquid pupils and the way his lips are parted, face flushed — seeing it leaves her mouth parched.

“I’m not...” She fumbles for the words, so unsure of what she’s doing, secretly terrified that if she says the wrong words, she’ll wake up and find out this was another dream. “I have very little experience with these matters. You have... you know…”

Monkey’s eyes crinkle and his mouth curls into a deep smile. “I know my way around a woman, if that’s what you mean.” He tilts his head to the side, considering his own statement. “And not just because I sometimes spend time as one.”

He mentioned that once before — how before he was trapped, he could shift his body to match how he was feeling. The image sharpens her anticipation to a finer point, but she tucks those tantalizing questions and possibilities away for now. At least for this moment, she decides to be brave, to believe that they’ll have the chance to explore more another day.

“What I mean is...” Tripitaka inhales through her nose slowly. She straightens, feeling a thread of metallic fortitude extending up her spine. She keeps her forward momentum going, feeling bolder by the second. “I think I know what I want.”

Monkey’s eyes widen and his tongue peeks out from behind his top teeth, scraping along the underside slowly. “Anything. Just say the word; I’m ready.”

“You’ll have to trust me.”

“ _Anything_ ,” he repeats, the vowels edging on desperate.

She leans forward, bringing her mouth to his ear. Partly because she’s still too bashful to say this and look him in the eye, and partly because she thinks he’ll like it better this way, if she says it soft and secretive and then runs the tip of her tongue up along the curve of his ear afterwards.

“What we do, I defer to your experience — but whatever it is…” She searches for the right words. “Don’t hold back, please. You see, I’ve been waiting for this moment, and… it feels like I’ve been waiting forever, and I don’t want slow, or careful, or measured.”

She leans back, reaching down to open the ties at her waist, releasing the last barrier between him and full access to her. She waits until he’s met her eyes, his gaze glassy, and she’s not even ashamed of the slight tremor in her voice as she speaks the next words because it comes out raw and true, “I want it all. Make it good for me, Monkey.”

Monkey blinks rapidly, eyelids fluttering, then closes his eyes and tilts his head back imploringly. “Heavens above,” he says. “Tripitaka, you… if you knew what you were doing to me…”

When he brings his head back down, opens his eyes, something has shifted. Something that makes her skin buzz and a sweet fear prickle goosebumps along the back of her arms. He’s looking at her with erotic precision, like the rest of the world has fallen away and only she exists.

He leans forward, retracing his path in reverse this time, starting at her feet and making his way upwards. His teeth are scraping her flesh, and he finds tender spots and devours them, leaving her skin red and marked. Her breathing becomes ragged as she watches him, overwhelmed with the ripeness of the sensation.

As he passes her knees, his mouth becomes firmer, more insistent, and his intention is clear. The knowledge has her biting her lip, and he’s inching her legs apart as he rises. When he reaches her center his frenzy pauses, and he presses his face in, inhaling her. A low sound of pleasure rises out of him as he takes her in, like he can’t help himself. She relaxes her hips and lets her legs fall further apart, inviting him in.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he says, voice hoarse and greedy, and then he’s on her, his tongue slick and strong and — oh, that’s, it’s… _oh_. His hands are kneading their way along her thighs, and one begins to glide up towards his mouth. He presses his tongue down at the same moment the tip of his finger begins to tease her, and she groans, arching beneath him with how incredible it feels, how it’s coiling heat at the base of her spine, making her muscles writhe of their own accord.

“Monkey,” she breathes out, reaching a hand up and tangling it in his hair. As his finger slips deeper, she digs her nails in and tightens the pressure. He makes a noise when she does, and she reaches her other hand up to create a mirror image.

His mouth opens even wider, more of his slick heat engulfing her, and his movements become faster, his control ebbing. It feels even better this way, knowing he’s losing himself in this just like she is. She aches to feel him fall apart.

A second finger slides in and her hips buck with the delicious fullness of it. She pulls his hair again, harder; he moans, softening under her hands, and she begins to move her hips. He opens his mouth for her, letting her grind into him, a small sound escaping him every time she hits home, the thrust of his fingers following the pace she’s setting. That’s ultimately what does it, how thoroughly he’s enjoying what she’s doing to him.

She’s unraveling again, his hair bunching in her fingers, her hips undulating wildly, and he’s right there with her, his fingers going deeper, his moans getting louder.

Her eyes squeeze shut and it’s overtaking her. “Oh, Monkey, I can’t — I’m —”

His fingers curl inside of her, pressing into a point of liquid heat, and then she knows nothing but the roar of her own pleasure tearing through her, every inch of her body snapping with tension and his tongue moving against her, set to the same rhythm as her muscles convulsing around his fingers.

* * *

Monkey is burrowed into her, his head in the curve of her neck, their legs tangled together. She’s been softly stroking his hair, running her hands along the strong lines of his back while they dozed.

“Monkey,” she says quietly. He stirs, pulling back just enough so that he can see her. His expression is relaxed and dreamy. “That was… I don’t even have the words. Thank you.”

Monkey laughs. “As much as I’d like to take all the credit — and believe me, I usually do —” He reaches a hand up, tracing three fingers along her cheek. “That was all you. You were like a queen, Tripitaka.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “A queen?”

“Makes sense, if you think about it.” He moves his head back and forth, like he’s trying the idea on for size. “I am a king, after all. Wouldn’t that make you a queen?”

She sits with the word for a moment, but it doesn’t feel like it fits. But the way he’s looking at her, still — it hasn’t wavered in the slightest. It’s devotional, completely open, ready to give her whatever she’s brave enough to ask for.

“Could I be…” And then it comes to her, the word she wants to hear fall from his lips. “Could I be a prince, instead?”

He waits, blinking at her slowly, as if he can sense that there’s more.

She licks her lips, biting the bottom one. “Maybe sometimes a princess?”

His smile bursts like a sudden ray of sunshine. “Mm-hm, yes, yes, yes,” he says with so much enthusiasm that she can’t help but laugh, and then he’s kissing her, exuberant, and maybe he’s right after all. Maybe she is brave; maybe she’s a monk who scales mountains, a princess who frees gods from stones, a prince who falls in love with a king. Maybe she can be all of those things.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) In my headcanon, and therefore in all fic I write about these characters, they're both nonbinary. (I'm also onboard the Monkey-is-as-bi-as-the-day-is-long train.)
> 
> 2) There are a bunch of details that didn't make it into the fic itself, and if you make the mistake of asking me about them, I will probably tell you even MORE of my way-too-extensive headcanon. You've been warned. ;)


End file.
